


Speak Up

by StrawberriesxBeyond



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Bad end, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberriesxBeyond/pseuds/StrawberriesxBeyond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The last of Aoba's voice Clear heard was not Clear's own name, but instead his hushed cries as he granted him the relief of reality with anesthesia before he began his operation."</p>
<p> <br/>Picking up off of Clear's bad end in Re:connect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Up

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept my sincerest apologies for this cruddy little thing. I typed this up real quick half asleep with a sudden bout of inspiration after having the longest writers block. I decided to clean it up a bit and use it as my contribution to the fandom. I'm not supposed to be writing new things right now in the first place, but no one has to know.

Today, he decided, would be the day he removed his vocal folds. He had planned from the beginning when he'd force his love into mutism, knowing well of its importance. Toue was finally done with him, and Clear had finally been granted full control over Aoba. He could even dispose of him if he wanted.

But Clear could never do that. Not to Aoba. He loved Aoba.

He was well prepared for this day, as he was for every scheduled operation, yet that never stopped him from indulging in his love's sweet voice every chance he got. It upset him that he sometimes had to force it out of him. Aoba had become so quiet as of late. It was a shame. Clear missed his voice so much at times. It wasn't until he'd hear it though would he be reminded of the imminence to be rid of it.

Clear took his time setting up the operation room. He did not rush to retrieve Aoba either, knowing he had more than enough time. Aoba was forever his now, which was why he needed to make him timeless.

He gave his usual greetings to Aoba, receiving the usual silence in kind. Clear no longer took note of Aoba's lack of reaction every time the echo of metal dragging bounced around the cell or when Clear's cool hands met equally cool skin. He, instead, took delight in the brief feeling of those feeble muscles tensing against his own as he lifted the light being into his arms before the boy went still once again.

Clear knew Aoba was familiar with the operation table. His body nestled upon it right away as Clear slowly laid him down. He did not bother with strapping him against it as Aoba never struggled. This time was no different.

...

...

 

"Hey...Aoba-san." Clear called softly, voice shaky.

When Aoba remained still, Clear took that as him listening, and continued.

"I am going to miss hearing your voice. You have such a lovely voice." He breathed out as his fingers began to wonder gently over colorless skin.

Aoba's breaths became that much heavier as Clear spoke, and he would have missed the slight change if not for his acute hearing.

"Aoba-san," He whispered again. "I'm going to start now. Is there anything you want to say before I do?" As expected, he did not receive an answer but harsh breaths. This wouldn't do at all. "I'd really love to hear you one more time?" He urged hopefully.

Clear watched him closely for a few beats, patiently waiting for the other to speak. When Aoba slightly parted his lips once more, Clear unconsciously leaned in, anticipating words he often craved. Aoba no longer spoke as much anymore. Most often, which was only twice, the phrase, "I'm sorry," left Aoba the easiest, though very softly, almost inaudible. If Clear tried hard enough, he'd hear his name slip past those dried lips instead, something he enjoyed basking in. Maybe his last words could be his name - if Clear tried hard enough.

Clear watched as Aoba moved his lips, saw the slightest shift his tongue made while doing so, but he did not hear any words.

Something began to build in the pit of his stomach, and the urge to move shook his knees and itched at his toes. He told him to speak again, and Aoba's breath hitched. Clear immediately noticed the slight twist around Aoba's mouth as he kept his eyes fixated on him, This time, Clear heard it.

It was whispered through a pitch higher than Clear remembered, fading out and almost cracking at the end.

"Kill me." 

Time lapsed in silence as Clear did not answer nor move. His mind and body felt very empty at that moment, yet air that he did not need remained trapped inside him as his being stood still. When he inhaled once again it was only to let out a shaky and confused noise at Aoba's words.

"Aoba-san...?" Clear's eyebrows creased together as he felt another wet trail tickle down his cheek.

"Kill me." Aoba repeated, his voice not much stronger, but more pleading. He was begging Clear now?

"Why would you want me to do that?" _Why would you ruin this wish for me?_

Aoba slowly shut his mouth, something Clear did not appreciate, and he suddenly felt very cold.

"I could never kill you, Aoba-san." Clear once again let his hand gently pet the crown of Aoba's head. At this, Aoba's face scrunched together, and started to tremble even.

"I love you." Clear assured. A hushed whine escaped from the boy below him, his lips twisting inward. Clear couldn't help but watch in admiration. 

"I could never capture your beauty if you die now." Clear explained as Aoba's breathing became shaky. Clear cooed soothingly, "I'll never let you die, Aoba-san." Aoba immediately convulsed as a strangled sob forced past his throat, his breath catching every time he tried to inhale.

Clear placed a soft kiss upon his head and caught a stray tear with his thumb as he leaned back. As promised, he started to get to work. 

The last of Aoba's voice Clear heard was not Clear's own name, but instead his hushed cries, and though he did not struggle, Clear granted him the relief of reality with anesthesia before he began his operation, strangely finishing at a slower pace than ideal.


End file.
